“There are no edges to my loving now.”

“Sit, be still, and listen,because you're drunkand we're atthe edge of the roof.”

“You have been walking the ocean's edge,holding up your robes to keep them dry.You must dive naked under and deeper under,a thousand times deeper. Love flows down. The ground submits to the sky and suffers what comes.Tell me, is the earth worse for giving in like that?Do not put blankets over the drum.Open completely.”

“I'm in love!Your advice, what are they?Love has poisoned me!Your remedies, what are they?I hear them shout: "fast, Bind him feet!"But if my heart that has gone mad!Those strings on my feetWhat is the point?”

“Oh my friend, all that you see of me is a shell, the rest belongs to love.”

“I said to the night, "If you are in love with the moon, it is because you never stay for long."The night turned to me and said, "It is not my fault. I never see the Sun, how can I know that love is endless?”

“The Ripe FigNow that You live here in my chest,anywhere we sit is a mountaintop.And those other images,which have enchanted peoplelike porcelain dolls from China,which have made men and women weepfor centuries, even those have changed now.What used to be pain is a lovely benchwhere we can rest under the roses.A left hand has become a right.A dark wall, a window.A cushion in a shoe heel,the leader of the community!Now silence. What we sayis poison to someand nourishing to others.What we say is a ripe fig,but not every bird that flieseats figs.”